The Fox and the Hound
by Snapdragongrrl
Summary: H/D Slash?*AU*Much like the cartoon the title comes from, this story is about two best friends who didn’t know they were supposed to be enemies. OK, so maybe one of them knew and tricked the other one into being his friend, but it’s the same basic ide
1. In the Chamber of Forgotten Secrets

Title: The Fox and the Hound (1/?)  
  
Author: Lisa (Snapdragongrrl@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe and all who reside within belong to the great and powerful JK Rowling, whose shoes I am not fit to lick. (Also, Disney owns the title.) Oh, and while this ISN'T a crossover with "Buffy," some of my writing may be influenced by it, and all credit due goes to Joss Whedon.  
  
PAIRINGS: Harry/Draco (Only friendship at first, but it may develop into mild SLASH. You've been warned...). There may also be some Ron/Hermione, because it's unavoidable.  
  
SUMMARY: Much like the cartoon the title comes from, this story is about two best friends who didn't know they were supposed to be enemies. Okay, so maybe one of them knew and tricked the other one into being his friend, but it's the same basic idea. Starts at the end of CoS.  
  
SPOILERS: Just to be safe: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF. I've taken what you know to have happened in the Chamber of Secrets and screwed it all around for my amusement (and hopefully yours, too).  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've never written a fanfic in my life. If you think I suck, please tell me. Even more helpful, though, would be to tell me how to "not" suck or to offer to Beta. Oh, and if you love it, tell me that too, please. ( By the way, if this has been done before, "My bad." I haven't read anything like this, but that doesn't mean it isn't out there. So mucho credit to anyone who's ever written a fic resembling this one in any way.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Want? Tell me. Then comes the taking and the having.  
  
DEDICATION: To my roommate and best friend Min, who yelled at me and told me to get off my arse and stop reading so many fics and start writing some, and who said she would actually read it if I did, even though fanfic is "nerdy."  
  
Chapter One: Inside the Chamber of (Forgotten) Secrets  
  
Gilderoy Lockhart couldn't believe his luck.  
  
The-Boy-Who-Lived had just become The-Boy-Who-Had-Left-His-Wand-on-the- Ground.  
  
Harry Potter had knelt down next to a freshly shed Basilisk skin and was examining it when he put his wand down to touch it. He pondered how one could even *harm* a beast this size, let alone kill it, and was getting pretty worried.  
  
While Harry was thinking about his imminent death, Ron Weasley paced and thought of how best to save his sister. He had a tentative plan but, as this was usually Harry's area of expertise, he was reluctant to say anything.  
  
"Harry," Ron started. "I sorta have this idea..."  
  
He was interrupted, though, because when Harry turned to look at his best friend, Professor Lockhart saw his opening and took it.  
  
"A-ha!" Lockhart said, not very creatively as he wasn't terribly bright.  
  
Harry and Ron turned to see Professor Lockhart pointing Harry's wand at them and cackling rather madly.  
  
"Now, who would like a blank slate first?" Lockhart asked. "The public would be terribly sad to learn that two young, innocent boys lost their minds in the Chamber of Secrets, but I should think they would be notably more upset by losing you, Harry. After all, what good is The-Boy-Who-Lived if he can't even remember his name, or that he's a wizard?"  
  
Harry and Ron glanced at each other uneasily, but had no time to do anything before Lockhart shouted "OBLIVIATE," and Harry's world went dark.  
  
The force of the spell sent Harry's unconscious form flying into the cavern wall and then slumping to the ground.  
  
Apparently the archaic cavern wasn't used to such force hitting it because it started to cave-in. Ron dragged Harry away from the rain of rocks starting to tumble down, while Lockhart, brain that he is, looked up and wondered what all the rumbling was about.  
  
"Get down!" Ron shouted at Professor Lockhart. And Lockhart did. But only because he was hit by a bludger-sized rock and rendered unconscious.  
  
The cave-in had successfully trapped them all on the same side, close to the rather Slytherin-looking door that Ron assumed led to things much worse than rockslides and memory charms. He looked around to assess the damage, saw that his two companions were not rejoining the land of the cognizant anytime soon, and groaned in frustration.  
  
"Why me?" He grumbled as he tried to drag Lockhart over near Harry. "We'll never save Ginny like this." He took Harry's wand from Lockhart, cast a full-body bind on the professor to keep him out of trouble, and put the wand into the pocket of his now-filthy robes.  
  
About twenty minutes passed, and Harry awoke to see a tall red-haired boy pacing by a huge, ugly door and mumbling.  
  
"Hello?" He called out hesitantly.  
  
Ron whipped around to see Harry sitting up and rubbing the back of his head where he had hit the wall. He ran over and kneeled beside his friend.  
  
"Harry! Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"  
  
"Ugh, too loud, Red. Please don't shout."  
  
"Red? Red?! Harry, who am I?" Ron said urgently, thinking that it would be just too ironic if the only thing Lockhart could do properly was a memory charm. They had thought he was only bluffing about his great memory charm abilities earlier in his classroom.  
  
"I don't know, but I'm guessing that I'm Harry?" The dark-haired boy said, bewildered. "Why don't I even know who I am? You're a stranger, sure, but I should at least know who I am! What have you done to me?!"  
  
Ron's face fell, and he started to do a most embarrassing thing: He cried.  
  
With tears of defeat trickling down his freckled cheeks, Ron thought of the repercussions of life without his best friend.  
  
His sister was going to die, and while he didn't know who to blame it on just yet, it didn't matter because it wouldn't save her or bring her back. His best friend might as well be dead, too. He would probably never be the same. And the entire wizarding world would know just who to blame that on. Him. For not saving Harry or not jumping in front of the spell. When Hermione was un-petrified, she would be devastated. She would hate him. He would have no friends at all. His mum and dad would disown him for disgracing the family name. He would have to live by his wits alone in the muggle world. He was doomed...  
  
"Er, I'm sorry I yelled." Harry said, patting Ron's shoulder. "Please don't cry. Everything will be okay."  
  
Ron looked up; his red-rimmed eyes stared at Harry. He was acting just like Harry would really act. Very polite, wanting to make everything better. Maybe there was hope yet.  
  
Quickly Ron told Harry what had happened, leaving out a lot, of course, because they didn't have all day, but giving him the general gist. Harry was stuck on one thing, though.  
  
"Magic is real? And I'm a wizard? I can do magic?" He said in a daze.  
  
Ron, who was already to the important portion of the story, the part about his sister, was exasperated. "Yes, you're a wizard, so am I. We covered this already. Your name is Harry Potter, and I'm Ron Weasley. Our teacher, Professor Lockhart, made you lose your bloody memory, and we are down here to save my sister, Ginny!"  
  
Harry looked up at this last part. A little girl was going to die. And he had to save her.  
  
Ron saw the moment Harry's Gryffindor spirit emerged. There was a spark of concern in his green eyes with a smidge of determination and adventure. He was ready for The Plan. 


	2. Killing Him Softly

Title: The Fox and the Hound (2/?)  
  
Author: Lisa (Snapdragongrrl@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One.  
  
PAIRINGS: Harry/Draco (Only friendship at first, but it may develop into mild SLASH. You've been warned...). There may also be some Ron/Hermione, because it's unavoidable.  
  
SUMMARY: See Chapter One.  
  
SPOILERS: Just to be safe: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF. I've taken what you know to have happened in the Chamber of Secrets and screwed it all around for my amusement (and hopefully yours, too).  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Want? Tell me. Then comes the taking and the having.  
  
DEDICATIONS: To Anna, author of "Last Tango in Paris" (and the rest of that brilliant series) whose own memory charm started turning the rusty wheels in my head, and to Angelkate, author of the BtVS/HP crossover "The Stages" whose ending left me speechless, angry, heartbroken, and desperate to see a memory charm do something good for a change.  
  
Chapter Two: Killing Him Softly  
  
Sadly, The Plan only consisted of a very elementary distract and conquer move that Ron wasn't sure would work at all, but as Harry's grandest thought right now was 'How could magic really exist?', they had to go with it.  
  
Ron decided to leave Lockhart where he was, and hope something big and nasty wanted a bite of him.  
  
As they approached the door to the Chamber, Ron slapped his forehead. He hadn't figured out how to open it yet.  
  
"Harry, remember how I said you can talk to snakes?"  
  
"Yes, but I still think that's very silly. Who can actually *talk* to animals?"  
  
"Well, just try it now." Ron practically growled. He pointed at the door and told Harry to pretend they were real snakes and command them to open it.  
  
And it opened.  
  
Harry stumbled back in shock.  
  
"Yes, yes, I was right, wasn't I? Now come on."  
  
Ron dragged Harry through the door, and after the last few whispered instructions, he disappeared behind the huge snake statues on the right side of the chamber.  
  
Harry made his way slowly up the middle of the chamber. He stared at everything in awe until he saw a small red-haired girl lying on the floor in front of a huge statue of a very ugly man's face.  
  
'That must be Ginny,' he thought, running forward and dropping by her side.  
  
From his vantage point behind the snake statue closest to Harry and Ginny, Ron put his head in his hands and groaned softly. 'Still the hero, even with no memory of ever being one,' he thought.  
  
Ron was trying to figure out how to get Harry away from Ginny, so he could Wingardium Leviosa her the heck out of there, when they were interrupted by a tall dark-haired boy emerging from the shadows at the opposite side of the chamber.  
  
'That's who you're supposed to lead away from Ginny, you git! Walk over to him before he gets too close,' Ron thought, trying to send this message to Harry telepathically.  
  
When Harry looked up and saw a boy scowling and coming towards him, he snapped into action, remembering that Ron said whoever was down here with Ginny was not their friend.  
  
"Hello!" He said brightly. "How wonderful to see you!"  
  
Ron was thinking just how well this plan was going to work, as he saw the other boy cock his head in confusion. Ron, taking a leaf out of his mother's book, was using the old adage "killing with kindness" as the safest distraction technique for The-Boy-Who-Had-No-Memory to use.  
  
He had told Harry to be exceedingly polite to whoever was with Ginny, "Act like he or she is your long lost brother or sister." And Harry had pointed out that he didn't know who his brothers or sisters were and what if this was one of them? Ron had groaned and said it wasn't going to be a relative of his and to just trust him. Harry had blindly done so without question, which was kind of worrying to Ron, who could still remember all the people who would want to lie to Harry and hurt him.  
  
Clearly, it was working though as the boy had no idea what to make of Harry's "It's tea time, shall we have some and chat about the weather" attitude.  
  
Harry approached the other boy with his hand outstretched. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Harry Potter. And you are?"  
  
"T-Tom Riddle." He said, befuddled, as his arm was nearly wrenched from its socket by Harry's exuberant handshake.  
  
Seeing that Riddle was effectively distracted, Ron started to move Ginny slowly. He had her hovering only inches off the ground so she could be dropped without harm if Tom turned his way.  
  
And he did.  
  
*Splat*  
  
Ron dropped Ginny in a puddle of water and ducked back behind the statue.  
  
"What was that?" Riddle said, starting back toward Ginny.  
  
"That?" Harry asked. "Maybe Ginny is waking up. I'm sure she could use some tea; it's awfully cold in here."  
  
Harry grabbed Tom's arm and turned him completely away from Ginny.  
  
"Where did you say you kept your tea things down here?"  
  
Ron quickly levitated Ginny behind the statue with him, and saw that she had a diary clutched in her freezing hands. Ron pried it out and was staring at it when he heard Tom shouting.  
  
Tom had twisted out of Harry's grasp and turned to see the floor in front of his ancestor's statue empty.  
  
"Where is it? Where is the diary?"  
  
Harry was confused. He wasn't angry about Ginny vanishing at all, just worried about some diary. 'Rather girly if you ask me,' he thought.  
  
In a flash of brilliance so bright he must have been channeling Hermione somehow, Ron wondered what would happen if he destroyed the diary that was of obvious import to Riddle.  
  
Removing from his robes the pocket knife his father had given him for his last birthday and vowing to never again tease his old man for loving muggles, he began to stab and tear at the pages of the diary. Black ink started to gush out all over his hands, but it seemed to be working.  
  
"NO!" Tom Riddle screamed, enraged. He was clutching his middle where a strange yellow glow was piercing through him.  
  
'It's quite pretty,' Harry thought. But began backing away anyway because, wizard or not, he was sure yellow light shouldn't burst through anyone's belly.  
  
Ron closed the diary and managed to work the small knife through both covers.  
  
Riddle disappeared in a myriad of screams, agonized moans, and bright flashes of light.  
  
And then Ginny came to.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: I have two more chapters already written, but if the majority of you think that I would be better at tying a cinderblock around my ankle and jumping off a bridge than continuing to write, I won't post anymore. But I do promise it will pick up, if you think it starts slow. Cus it does. And Draco is coming soon... in Chapter 4, if ya want it... ;) 


	3. “My Life as a Muggle” by Ronald Weasley

Title: The Fox and the Hound (3/?)  
  
Author: Lisa (Snapdragongrrl@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The Harry Potter Universe and all who reside within belong to the great and powerful JK Rowling, whose shoes I am not fit to lick. (Also, Disney owns the title.) Oh, and while this ISN'T a crossover with "Buffy," some of my writing may be influenced by it, and all credit due goes to Joss Whedon.  
  
PAIRINGS: Harry/Draco (Only friendship at first, but it will probably develop into mild SLASH. You've been warned...). This will also have some Ron/Hermione, because it's unavoidable.  
  
SUMMARY: Much like the cartoon the title comes from, this story is about two best friends who didn't know they were supposed to be enemies. Okay, so maybe one of them knew and tricked the other one into being his friend, but it's the same basic idea. Starts at the end of CoS.  
  
SPOILERS: Just to be safe: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF. I've taken what you know to have happened in the Chamber of Secrets and screwed it all around for my amusement (and hopefully yours, too).  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've never written a fanfic in my life. If you think I suck, please tell me. Even more helpful, though, would be to tell me how to "not" suck or to offer to Beta. Oh, and if you love it, tell me that too, please. ( By the way, if this has been done before, "My bad." I haven't read anything like this, but that doesn't mean it isn't out there. So, mucho credit to anyone who's ever written a fic resembling this one in any way.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Want? Tell me. Then comes the taking and the having.  
  
Chapter Three: "My Life as a Muggle" by Ronald Weasley  
  
Ron's forehead was getting extremely sore. He had never slapped his hand to it so many times than in this last hour spent with Harry "I have no memories to speak of" Potter.  
  
As soon as Ginny opened her eyes, Harry had stuck out his hand and said rather brightly, "Hi, I'm Harry. Pleased to meet you."  
  
Ginny had promptly fainted dead away.  
  
And the forehead slapping commenced.  
  
"Harry! You *know* Ginny!" Ron said exasperatedly. "Remember how I told you that everyone we see will most likely already know you, but they won't know that you don't have your memory so you'll look completely *mad* by introducing yourself?"  
  
"Oh, yeah." Harry said, looking sheepish.  
  
Ron floated Ginny back through the chamber to where they had left Lockhart in a full-body bind. He was awake, and his eyes were darting around frantically though he couldn't move anything else.  
  
"Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley? Gilderoy?"  
  
'I never thought I'd be so glad to hear McGonagall's voice shouting at me,' Ron thought.  
  
"We're all here, Professor. And we have Ginny!" Ron shouted back to her through the fallen wall of rubble.  
  
"Get everyone away from the rocks, Mr. Weasley. We're coming to get you," said a kindly male voice.  
  
'Dumbledore's here, too. *He'll* know how to get Harry's memory back... Hopefully.'  
  
Harry helped Ron move Ginny and Lockhart, and they leaned over them to protect their faces from any debris. Then he heard several voices shout "Incendio," and when he looked up, the towering wall of fallen rocks was gone leaving a bunch of smoke and dust in its place.  
  
Three figures made their way toward them through the haze, and Ron told Harry who they were as quickly and quietly as he could.  
  
"The greasy git on the left with the black hair is Professor Snape. He hates you, you hate him; it's this whole big thing. The one in the middle is Professor Dumbledore. He's the headmaster. We like him. The woman is Professor McGonagall, she's strict, but we like her, too." Ron whispered. "I'll do the talking."  
  
Ron still didn't trust Professor Snape, no matter who had really been trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone last year, and he didn't think he should know about Harry's "condition" right away. Or at all. Unless under close supervision. By many Aurors.  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall were leaning down to examine Ginny, while Snape peered curiously between Lockhart, who was still unable to move; Ron, who was looking at all three professors very nervously; and Harry, who was looking just as curiously at him.  
  
"Why is there a professor in a full-body bind, Mr. Weasley?" Barked Professor Snape. "And why is Potter just staring about? What really happened here?"  
  
"Now, Severus, we are going to get everyone out of this abysmal cavern before we interrogate. Innocent until proven guilty, remember?" Dumbledore laid a hand on Snape's shoulder and motioned for the boys to follow them. He was levitating Lockhart, while McGonagall levitated Ginny at the back of the group.  
  
Snape kept glancing back at Harry curiously, and as always when Snape looked at Harry, with more than a little malice.  
  
'Potter has yet to say a word, when it is usually impossible to keep his mouth shut. Weasley looks very guilty about something, while Potter has a rather blank look about him. What would make them think they had to bind a teacher, even one as annoying as Lockhart?' Snape was musing.  
  
Dumbledore levitated each of them up through the sink in the 2nd floor girls' bathroom. McGonagall set Ginny down to levitate the headmaster because, after all, even a powerful wizard could accidentally float himself into a bit of pipe sticking out.  
  
Moaning Myrtle waved at Harry and giggled, and Dumbledore waved back at her and said, "Once again, thank you for your help Myrtle. We couldn't have found them without you."  
  
Myrtle turned an odd shade of silver, slightly darker than her normal translucent hue, and Ron guessed that she must be blushing. Harry was staring at her with his mouth agape. Ron quickly elbowed him and they kept walking toward the hospital wing.  
  
But Snape had noticed Harry staring as if he had never seen a ghost before, let alone Myrtle, who clearly knew him. 'Curious,' he thought.  
  
The group reached the infirmary, and placed the two "patients" on beds. Ginny had awakened, notably embarrassed about recent events, but otherwise unharmed. Madame Pomfrey and her parents began to fuss over her, while Lockhart's eyes continue to roll about, frantically trying to get someone to un-charm him.  
  
After telling Harry to lie on a bed and asking Snape to watch him, Dumbledore lead Ron out into the corridor before he could protest.  
  
"Ron, I have a feeling there's something you need to tell me," Dumbledore said, in that benevolent grandfather way he has.  
  
"Right, sir," Ron said. He gulped and then continued. "We went to find Lockhart..."  
  
"Start from the Chamber of Secret's events, please." Dumbledore interrupts. "We know that Lockhart was going to leave and you stopped him, forcing him into the chamber. Myrtle told us what she saw and overheard in her bathroom."  
  
"Right then." Ron continued. "When we got into the chamber, we saw a huge Basilisk skin... Wait, sir! The basilisk! It's still down there!"  
  
"Calm down, Mr. Weasley. The other professors and I will take care of that shortly. It wasn't chasing you through the cavern, so I shall assume that it is adequately contained at the moment. Continue please."  
  
Ron told Dumbledore about the entire ordeal with Tom Riddle in the chamber, but he omitted certain things, not ready to fess up to losing The-Boy-Who- Lived and all his memories. When he was done, Dumbledore chuckled lightly.  
  
'He *is* nutters!' Ron thought.  
  
"Tom Riddle is Voldemort's real name, Ron." Ron gasped at this and his eyes were about to pop out of his skull, but Dumbledore continued. "And Harry frightened and distracted him simply by being overly polite." He paused, and his eyes lost a little of their trademark glimmer. "But Mr. Weasley, unless I'm mistaken, you are leaving out some very important parts of the story."  
  
Ron gulped. It felt like a chocolate frog had been buried alive in his throat and was fighting to free itself. He reluctantly filled in the parts he had skipped, mentally preparing himself for imminent banishment from the magical community.  
  
When he was finished, Dumbledore was not chuckling.  
  
"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do for Harry, Ron. Memory charms that strong cannot be broken without the recipient going mad." He said sadly.  
  
And then the babbling started.  
  
"But sir! You have to fix him! He's my best friend! And the whole wizarding world is going to blame me, and I'll be disowned, and I'll be forced to live as a muggle in the street..."  
  
"Calm yourself, Mr. Weasley. He can still have his memories back."  
  
Ron paused, head cocked to one side. "How? What? How?"  
  
"Three excellent questions. We have to tell them to him, one at a time, exactly as they happened. It is very dangerous to leave him as he is because he knows no enemies and will believe anything anyone tells him to be absolute truth."  
  
"Would it change him much, to hear something differently than how it happened?" Ron asked, worried about the git of all gits who was currently watching Harry.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, we are as greatly defined by the experiences we live through as we are by our very personalities. Without his experiences, Harry would develop into a different person."  
  
Unbeknownst to student and teacher, pale ears attached to a pale blond head had just tuned in to their every word.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: An extra loud shout out goes to Gazzerin for being my first and only actual reviewer! Yay! And I'm happy that this is original. Even if it is "bullshit" at least I have originality on my side. Go me. Oh, and I hope by adding "Alternative Universe" to the summary, it will seem less weird to people. I totally forgot that at first. My bad. More fun to come. D and H will soon... Bang? Bond? Kill one another? Kill Ron? Join the circus? Stay tuned ( 


	4. A Fox in the Henhouse

Title: The Fox and the Hound (4/?)  
  
Author: Lisa (Snapdragongrrl@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One. No one wants to read in every chapter about how I'm poor and own nothing at all.  
  
PAIRINGS: Harry/Draco (Only friendship at first, but it will probably develop into mild SLASH. You've been warned...). This will also have some Ron/Hermione, because it's unavoidable.  
  
SUMMARY: Much like the cartoon the title comes from, this story is about two best friends who didn't know they were supposed to be enemies. Okay, so maybe one of them knew and tricked the other one into being his friend, but it's the same basic idea. Starts at the end of CoS.  
  
SPOILERS: The first four HP books.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm going to try to update weekly. Feel free to email me with a "Where the hell is your update?" if I slack off.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Want? Tell me. Then comes the taking and the having.  
  
DEDICATION: To my four positive reviewers who made me want to continue this to see where it goes.  
  
Chapter Four: A Fox in the Henhouse  
  
Draco Malfoy pinched himself.  
  
Surely it must be Christmas? Or his birthday?  
  
Harry Potter had lost his memory.  
  
No, not just *one* memory... ALL of them.  
  
Draco's mind drew one important conclusion from the information he had overheard: 'If he has no memories, he doesn't know who his enemies are...'  
  
He knew that, as a Malfoy, it was his duty to play this out to his advantage somehow. But first he had to make sure it was true. Headmaster confirmed or not, Rule #7 of The Malfoy Manual of Meticulous Maliciousness was "Never trust anyone (even another Malfoy)."  
  
He glanced at the Weasel and the old man from his hiding spot around the corner. Weasel was pacing and "why me"-ing, and you could say that Dumbledore was more than a little occupied with trying to calm him down.  
  
Draco snuck into the infirmary unnoticed.  
  
Or so he thought.  
  
Dumbledore looked up from the taming of the Weasley in front of him in time to see pale hair and black robes sweep into the hospital wing. His eyes were back to their sparkly blue diamond state, and he was wearing his best all-knowing look.  
  
Snape was desperate to get away from the Potter boy.  
  
Something was most definitely off with him. He was asking maddening questions about the most mundane things, things even one as dim as Potter should already know.  
  
"I *know* they are 'robes,' but *why* do we wear them? They seem a bit impractical to me. Don't the sleeves ever drip into your mixtur-sorry 'potions?' And are you sure you don't think they look like dresses? Because frankly..."  
  
Snape noticed Malfoy slink into the hospital wing and saw his chance for escape. He needed to find out what was wrong with this boy. It was no fun to sneer at someone so blissfully unaware, no matter how inane the conversation.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, come here."  
  
Draco jumped, startled at being spotted so soon in his reconnaissance mission. He looked toward the second bed on the right where Professor *Snape,* of all people, was sitting next to Harry. And there was no bloodshed. None that he could see from where he was, anyway.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, stop gawking like a stargazing centaur and come here this instant." Snape snapped.  
  
As the blond boy headed his way, Harry started to introduce himself. He caught himself just in time, though, remembering what Ron had said. This boy Malfoy probably already knew him. He would try to speak only after he was spoken to, even if he really wanted to know what the boy called his unique eye color. 'I'd call them platinum,' Harry thought.  
  
"You will stay with Mr. Potter until either myself or Professor Dumbledore returns," Snape said.  
  
Before Draco could utter the smallest protest to his head of house, Snape and his billowing "dress-like" robes had swept through the infirmary door.  
  
Draco threw himself down into the chair Snape had vacated and glared at Potter from beneath his pale lashes. He was too close to spy on Potter now.  
  
To his utter astonishment, Potter smiled at him and said hello.  
  
Deciding to see where it would take him, Draco drew his face into a lazy grin and drawled, "Why are you in here? I do hope you aren't ill."  
  
"Oh, no. It's nothing like that. But I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say. Ron told me not to." Harry frowned.  
  
"And since when do you take orders from the Weas-Ron, anyway? I thought we were better friends than that, Pot-Harry," Draco said, sticking out his lower lip.  
  
'Anyone who is nice to you is probably your friend, Ron had said,' Harry thought.  
  
Harry's smile returned and he motioned for Draco scoot his chair closer to the hospital bed. After looking around and seeing no one paying attention to them, he told Draco about his memory problem.  
  
"I woke up in an underground cave not knowing who or where I was until a red-haired boy told me my name is Harry Potter, I'm a wizard, and that we had to save his sister."  
  
It didn't occur to Harry to wonder about his "friend" Draco's complete lack of surprise about his memory loss.  
  
"Which you did," Draco gestured toward Ginny who was still being fawned over at the far side of the room. "Good job." He wondered if talking to Potter was always this easy, or only when you had the upper hand on him. "Well, since you no longer know me, my name is Draco Malfoy."  
  
Draco stuck out his hand to shake Harry's. Harry laughed as he shook it.  
  
'His hand is so warm.' In his head, Draco was trying to imagine if this is how things could've been on the train to school last year. What would change if Harry *thought* this was how things had happened? Draco wondered...  
  
"You're taking this very well. Ron started to cry when he realized I had no memories."  
  
Draco had a big laugh at that, picturing the tall, thin boy doubled over and sobbing about the "unfairness of it all."  
  
"Well," Draco began. "You can always make new memories, can't you?" He smiled at Harry; it was getting much easier to do, he noted wryly.  
  
Draco started to tell Harry the story of his first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
"...And while I was getting fitted for my school robes, I talked to you for the first time," Draco said after telling Harry about the acceptance letter he would've gotten and how wizards enter Diagon Alley. "We weren't properly introduced, but I knew then that we would be good friends."  
  
While he was telling Harry this utter load of crap, Draco pondered his need to have this boy as his friend. Malfoys didn't *need* anyone. It was Rule #2, right behind "Malfoys are always the best." Except for 2nd cousin Marta born in 1896 who was practically a squib, but they don't talk about her - which is Rule #712."  
  
Draco rationalized that his "need" for Potter's friendship was really just anger about Harry disregarding him like he was nothing more than a house elf. No one had ever *not* respected or accepted him. Sure, it was mainly because they feared his family's name and not because they actually liked him, but it wasn't as if he didn't have real friends. Not that he needed them, of course.  
  
He recalled for a moment all the failed, monosyllabic conversations with Crabbe and Goyle. The only time he had ever felt they were really listening to him was after Christmas this year in the Slytherin common room. They were discussing the Chamber of Secrets for the 18th time...  
  
He was snapped out of his reverie by Harry's hand on his shoulder.  
  
"You all right, Draco? You got really quiet all of a sudden."  
  
Draco looked at Harry and was startled to see the boy leaning close to him, half off the hospital bed, with his emerald eyes shining with concern. 'He called me Draco,' he thought, wondering why that made him so sickeningly happy.  
  
"Yes, of course I'm fine. Just lost track of the story. Where was I?"  
  
"You were just telling me how you introduced yourself on the train," Harry said, still a bit worried about what would make Draco stop talking in the middle of a story like that. Unless it was common wizard practice to blank out mid-sentence and stare thoughtfully at the wall with your brow furrowed; Harry wasn't sure.  
  
"Right." Draco made things up that he would've liked to see happen were he a normal boy and not a Malfoy commissioned to befriend Potter and bring him to the Dark Lord's side.  
  
"I entered the compartment you were in with Ron and sat down next to you. He told me to leave, because his family hates my family, and you told him I had every right to be there if I wanted. That's when we introduced ourselves and shook hands."  
  
"What happened after that? I get the feeling Ron and I are pretty good friends, but how can that be if he hates you and you're also my friend?"  
  
Draco sighed. This web of lies was getting too tangled to remember. He knew would be in trouble for this from all sides. From Potter's friends, the teachers, and especially his father, who would see his need to befriend Potter for what it really was: a sign of weakness. 'But it was worth it,' he thought, remembering a pair of wide, worried eyes in a deep jade hue.  
  
"When we got to the school, we were sorted into our dormitories, our 'houses.' We were put into different ones, so we don't see each other very much, but you and Ron are in the same house. So you became much closer friends."  
  
Harry began asking tons of questions about their houses, and Draco was actually leaving his biases out of it for once and telling him about each one's strengths.  
  
Harry laughed as Draco grudgingly admitted that his house didn't contain the nicest people in the school and that most were quite snobby.  
  
"But you seem nice enough and not too big of a snob. Are you sure they put you in the right place?" Harry teased, poking fun at Draco's impeccable appearance and his obviously expensive robes.  
  
They were so wrapped up, that they didn't notice the youngest male Weasley staring in shocked horror at his currently defenseless best friend fraternizing with the enemy. 'He was safer with You-Know-Who in the chamber,' Ron thought.  
  
Ron angrily approached the two boys and his rant was sucked back into his mouth as he saw that they were both laughing. Never having seen Malfoy laugh without spite or smirking, Ron didn't know how to react. He didn't know Malfoys *could* laugh. 'Maybe the prat's face will shatter from the effort.'  
  
He reached the side of the bed that was Malfoy-free and cleared his throat.  
  
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron said, reigning in his famous temper for memory-free Harry's sake.  
  
"Weasley, not that it's any of *your* business, but my friend Harry and I were just catching up on old times." Draco stared at Ron, daring him to contradict his words in front of the now very impressionable Harry.  
  
Dumbledore appeared in the doorway with Snape and watched the scene with his blue eyes all a twinkle.  
  
"We can still save him, Severus. This may be just the thing to pull young Mr. Malfoy away from the darkness before it is too late."  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Yay! Reviews! I'm the hap-hap-happiest gal in Happyville right now. Thanks so much for your kind words. I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue after my first two *amazingly* perceptive reviews, but you guys made me feel much better.  
  
Adam: I had to re-write part of this chapter because you pointed out something I hadn't meant to happen: Draco overhearing that last bit with Dumbledore. Oopsie. Thanks though, because I think the story will go in a totally new direction now. ;)  
  
Lanevaly: Who would Draco be if he wasn't deceiving Harry even just a little bit? ;)  
  
Jess S: Glad you think it's interesting! I hope to make it even more so. ;) 


	5. Like Water For Draco

Title: The Fox and the Hound (5/?)  
  
Author: Lisa (Snapdragongrrl@aol.com)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: I'm poor. I own nothing. "Blah blah bliddy blah, I'm so stuffy give me a scone." (And I don't even own *that* either.)  
  
PAIRINGS: Harry/Draco (Only friendship at first, but it will probably develop into mild SLASH. You've been warned...). This will also have some Ron/Hermione, because it's unavoidable.  
  
SUMMARY: You're on Chapter 5, people. You've read the summary 4 times. No summary for you!  
  
SPOILERS: 1st 4 HP books, just to be safe.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've never written a fanfic in my life. If you think I suck, please tell me. Even more helpful, though, would be to tell me how to "not" suck or to offer to Beta. Oh, and if you love it, tell me that too, please.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: Want. Take. Have. Tell me where it be.  
  
DEDICATION: To Aarynn for the *wonderful* multiple feedbackiness. It's inspired me to try and fight with this part to get it out quicker. Muchos Gracias also to everyone who's reviewed thus far. You all totally ROCK! Thanks!  
  
*IMPORTANT STUFF NOTE*: As this is already in an Alternate Universe due to the changed events in the Chamber of Secrets, I'm going to go ahead and change the timeline too, to suit my nefarious purposes. (Insert evil cackle here.) In my little Alternate Universe, the events at the end of CoS happened near the end of February, NOT at the end of the school year. Harry couldn't very well get his memories back from the Dursleys over the summer, now could he? He'd kill himself after two hours with them. Sorry about not mentioning this sooner; I'd been trying to work out how to keep them together over the summer. But those ideas were all vetoed due to *extreme* lameness. I'm sorry for having to do this, as it is also lame to change the timeline we all know and love, but just pretend everything that happened in CoS occurred before the end of February. Read on, gentle viewer. Er, reader.  
  
Chapter Five: Like Water For Draco  
  
Dumbledore thought it sounded rather like the beginning of a joke. "A blond, a brunette and a red-head walk into an infirmary..."  
  
Except it wasn't a joke because the blond knew perfectly well what was going on, and it was the one with the dark hair who was looking at the other two in bewilderment.  
  
It was time to step in before things got sticky--er.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore began, halting what would have ultimately been a battle to the death between the two boys glaring at one another over Harry's bed. "I'm glad you're both present to hear this. A course of action has been decided."  
  
Snape scowled at Draco from his place at Dumbledore's left side, knowing that his best student would now be roped in to helping with Potter's "recovery" just because he'd started talking to the boy for some unknown reason.  
  
Snape didn't think to remember that it was his fault Draco had been sitting next to Harry in the first place.  
  
"Harry, you will be given your own room, still in Gryffindor Tower, but separate from your roommates as I feel you could be over-stimulated and receive too much information at once. This way the amount you learn about your past won't be too overwhelming; it will be controlled by a schedule we will set up," the Headmaster said.  
  
Harry was trying to process everything, but he was very tired from the days' events.  
  
"We will bring you your dinner in here, Harry. It would be best for you to spend the night in the hospital wing while your new room is prepared."  
  
Ron looked around the room with a confused look on his freckled face. Where did the rest of his family go?  
  
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, I expect your family will be waiting in the Entrance Hall to say their good-byes to you. Miss Weasley will be continuing the rest of the term from your home via owl post, I'm afraid. This year has startled her too badly to remain here," Dumbledore led Ron to the door and gestured for Professor Snape and Draco to follow him. "Mr. Potter needs his rest. Dinner will be here within the hour."  
  
"Excuse me, sir? Could Draco stay with me? I'm a little scared still. This place is so big, there's so much I don't know about, and..."  
  
"Certainly, Harry. That is, if Mr. Malfoy consents?"  
  
Draco nodded, trying to hide yet another genuine smile. Multiple smiles in one day. He was amazed at the effect this "positive Potter" had on him. Harry wanted *him* to stay. Not Ron. Him. Game, set, match. This round belonged to him.  
  
Snape had never seen Draco act like this. It was almost as if he wanted to stay with Potter. But that was absurd. He would just have to trust that his best pupil had something horrid up his sleeve to unleash on the boy when no one was supervising them.  
  
Madame Pomfrey handed Harry a pair of pajamas, saw to the slightly swollen lump on the back of his head, and put a curtain around him to let him change.  
  
When he was finished, she pulled the curtain back and left the room, but not before warning them that she would know if Harry hadn't rested at all.  
  
Dusk was settling outside the hospital wing's wide windows, and the lamps at each bedside flicked on one by one. Harry jumped.  
  
"Who did that?"  
  
"Well, it's magic, isn't it. Harry, your first lesson: everything that you can't explain, things that don't seem possible, must be happening because of magic. You'll never learn anything else if you keep being so awed by all the little things. And you're completely forgetting that you can *do* most of these little things."  
  
Draco pulled out his wand and handed it to Harry.  
  
Harry held it the way he had learned earlier in the chamber.  
  
"Now say 'Lumos,'" Draco instructed.  
  
Harry whispered it, feeling foolish, and almost dropped the wand when it started to glow.  
  
"To put it out, say 'Nox.'" Harry did. "You just did magic."  
  
Harry grinned at his impromptu teacher. "That was brilliant!"  
  
Excited as he was, he couldn't help but stifle a yawn.  
  
Draco noticed and took his wand back. Harry pouted.  
  
"None of that, you need to sleep or Pomfrey will have my head. I'll just sit right here."  
  
He watched as Harry crawled under the covers and took his glasses off. Draco dimmed the bedside light, and he heard a soft sleepy voice thank him for staying there.  
  
He sat back and pondered the events that had transpired in the past few hours.  
  
It was going to work. They would be friends. Finally.  
  
But what had Dumbledore said about events changing a person? That he could be a different person if he had different experiences?  
  
Well, as far as he was concerned, this Harry was far superior to the old version. This Harry *liked* being around him; he even admitted he was scared in front of Draco and requested that he stay. This Harry smiled at him and laughed with him, not at him. This Harry also seemed to like him more than Ron, which could prove interesting.  
  
But Draco was forgetting a large part of the equation: Hermione.  
  
It was all well and good to have bested Ron, but he wasn't competing with just him. And the Hermione who would be waking up in the morning once the Mandrake Root potion had been administered was the same Hermione who had been petrified. There was no fooling someone that smart that still had all her memories.  
  
At Dumbledore's request, two trays of dinner had been sent to the hospital wing.  
  
So as not to disturb her patient too much, Madame Pomfrey took the trays from the house elves outside the door. She couldn't imagine how startled he would be by seeing things as odd as them. It would be close to a muggle's reaction, she thought.  
  
She approached Mr. Potter's bed and was just clearing her throat to wake her patient when she noticed Mr. Malfoy's position at the bedside. It brought a wistful smile to her normally stern face. He had fallen asleep and was leaning his upper half on the bed by Harry's legs, his head pillowed on his crossed arms. It didn't look comfortable at all.  
  
It was odd, seeing a Malfoy look so vulnerable and angelic. His normally impeccable pale hair was mussed, his pointed face relaxed, and for a moment, she could imagine he wasn't the poison-tongued little sod who always made a big deal about the tiniest injury. She felt compelled to take care of him, as he had obviously taken care of her patient in her absence.  
  
With her wand, Madame Pomfrey prepared the bed to Mr. Potter's right and floated Draco into it. After tucking him in, she placed each of their trays on their bedside tables and put a warming charm on them. Sleep was much more beneficial right now, she thought, and they could just eat when they woke up.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
It was well after midnight when Harry woke up. The room was still faintly lit by the bedside lamps, but it took a moment for him to recall where he was and why. He frowned when he saw the empty chair next to his bedside.  
  
"He didn't stay. I thought he would." Harry whispered to himself.  
  
There was something about the blond boy that appealed to him, a toughness he had. He felt comfortable around Draco. He wasn't scared by Harry's lack of memories, like Ron was. And he didn't treat him as if he would shatter under a harsh word like Professor Dumbledore did. But he wasn't plain mean and nasty like the dark-haired professor, whom he knew, even without any of his memories, must be a terrible teacher.  
  
Harry investigated his surroundings, looking for a clock.  
  
He rubbed his eyes when he saw the blond asleep in the next bed. Had he wished him there? Is *that* how magic worked or did he need a stic--er, wand?  
  
Draco was curled on his side facing Harry. He had his palms together and his cheek was resting on them. He looked exactly like this one Precious Moments figurine his Aunt Petunia had. He had to dust her sodding collection every Saturday, so he knew it well.  
  
'Where in the bloody hell had THAT come from?'  
  
Harry's brain was working overtime. Who was Aunt Petunia? Well, his aunt, *obviously,* but why did he dust for her? Was it for money? Did he visit on Saturdays or something?  
  
He strained his mind, reaching for any other slivers of his old memories, but it looked like that bright flash was just a fluke. Harry stopped giving himself a headache and decided to have some fun with "Precious Moments" Draco.  
  
Pushing back his covers, he got out of bed and picked up the glass of water near his dinner. His stomach growled in protest as he ignored the food and made his was to Draco.  
  
Harry stuck his fingers in the water and then held them over Draco's face.  
  
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.  
  
Someone was crying over his fallen body, their tears hitting his cheek. It was Harry. Draco wanted to tell him that he was fine, not dead, but he couldn't seem to move. Harry wiped the tears leaking from his big green eyes off of his streaked cheeks and bent down to kiss Draco's forehead. But the kiss felt as cold and wet as the tears.  
  
Draco started to stir, and Harry bit back a laugh. The last water drop had hit him square on his forehead and was rolling down his pointed nose.  
  
Draco sat up with a start. "Don't cry, Harry!" He said aloud.  
  
Harry stopped biting back his laughter and guffawed, clutching his belly and almost dropping his glass of water.  
  
"What?! Why would I be crying, you ninny!" He really was wiping tears from his eyes now, but they were tears of mirth, not dream tears of loss.  
  
Now, Malfoys don't blush. It is in The Manual under section B3: Unacceptable Bodily Functions (In Public or Otherwise), right after the expulsion of gas and sneezing. It wasn't done. It far was too common and undignified.  
  
But Draco was turning a fetching shade of pink high on his cheekbones that was especially visible, even in the low light of the room, because of his colorless complexion. He must be getting a cold, he reasoned, explaining away his warm cheeks.  
  
Having finished torturing Draco awake, Harry put down the glass of water and sat on Draco's bed.  
  
"How did I get in this bed?" Draco asked.  
  
"I was wondering that myself. I'm guessing it's pretty late. You didn't really have to stay this long, y'know."  
  
Harry saw the other boy's face fall, just a fraction, before his cool mask slipped back into its spot and added hurriedly, "But I'm really glad you did." He patted Draco's hand and smiled shyly.  
  
Draco cleared his suddenly tight throat and pulled away from Harry to get out of the bed. "Well, look's like our food's got warming charms on it. Shall we eat? I'm famished."  
  
"Must've worked up quite an appetite, sleeping and dreaming like you were," Harry teased. "What were you dreaming about, anyway?"  
  
They sat in the chairs between their two beds, trays on their laps and started to eat. It was a plain meal, Draco thought, just roast beef, potatoes, and broccoli. But it was probably because these were foods Harry would most likely recognize.  
  
He wondered how much Harry remembered about the world in general. It was strange; he knew his basic motor functions, how to eat, walk, talk. His vocabulary was at the right level for their age, and he even had a sense of humor. So was it just the magical world he had forgotten? Did he remember life before Hogwarts at all?  
  
Draco was doing his blank stare trick again. Harry didn't think it was healthy to forget you were speaking to someone like that. After all, who was the one with the extreme case of the "I don't remembers" here, him or Draco? He thought maybe it was because he'd made his friend uncomfortable, asking about his dream like he had. Dreams could be very personal.  
  
"It's all right, Draco. You don't have to tell me about your dream. I was just curious since it was my name you woke up saying and all." Harry hinted that he really would like to know, but he was trying not to be too rude about it.  
  
Thinking quickly, Draco said, "You had stubbed your toe on a desk in my dream. I was teasing you, telling you not to cry like a girl. That's all. You were being a big baby about it." A good lie has details, Draco thought. Thank you, Malfoy Manual page 92.  
  
Across the large hospital room, body-binded Gilderoy Lockhart lay pretty much forgotten, listening to everything happening around him. He was trying to come up with a way to talk himself out of the mess he had put himself in, but the conversation between the two sworn enemies was just too interesting. It was almost as if Potter and Malfoy were bonding. It was strange indeed.  
  
He wondered to himself what the punishment was for an infraction this size. It wasn't everyday someone destroyed the biggest hero of the modern magical world.  
  
Elsewhere, Albus Dumbledore was holding a very special meeting with some very special people. The dilemma concerning Lockhart's punishment was far down the list of topics to discuss, way behind the restoration of their fallen hero and the ways to exploit the Potter/Malfoy alliance to their favor. The current discussion topic was Harry's muggle memories and how much they could, or if they even should, restore them.  
  
The Order of the Phoenix was in for a long night.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Looong chapter. Whew. I sorta have a direction I'm going in now, but as always, I take requests and suggestions into consideration. Naughty muse, going on vacation in the middle of a story like that. Should be fired, she should. Like it? Hate it with a hot burny passion? Let me know! Thanks! 


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